Angel Fever

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Angel Fever Page 8

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 8

 

  Meghan had lowered herself into Liz’s desk chair, listening intently. She glanced down, trailing her finger back and forth across the desk. “Do you think – do you think maybe it’s because you didn’t know what you were for so long that you’re with Alex now? I mean, Alex is gorgeous, and he’s a great guy,” she added hastily. “But if you’d known that you were half-angel all your life, then…well, do you think you could ever fall in love with a human?”

  Suddenly it was all too clear what this was about. “I can’t really answer that,” I said slowly. “I mean, I can only look at it from my own experience. ”

  Meghan nodded, her blue eyes disappointed. “Okay,” she said after a pause. “Thanks. I was just curious. ”

  All at once her emotions swept over me. Usually I had to hold someone’s hand to get something, but this was so strong – an aching sweetness that caught at my throat. This isn’t just a crush, I thought in a daze. She’s really in love with Seb.

  I swallowed, shaken by the depth of her feelings – and wondered if I should warn her against caring so strongly for Seb, who’d always been adamant that he could never get seriously involved with a human girl. But Seb had to already know how she felt; he could read auras like other people read comic books. He’d be careful not to hurt her.

  Even so, I couldn’t help saying, “Um, Meghan – listen, I’m not sure if—”

  I didn’t know whether I was disappointed or relieved when Liz came back just then – I’d had no idea how I was planning on finishing that sentence.

  “Here you go. ” Liz handed Meghan the iPod. “I think Sam’s got one too. ”

  Meghan had been watching me with a slight frown; coming back to herself, she took the iPod and fiddled with its dial. She brightened. “Ooh, good, lots of indie stuff. There’s not much point in asking Sam Houston, though, is there? I bet he’s got both kinds of music – country and western. ”

  Liz grinned. “I think they sometimes listen to classic rock in Texas too. ”

  “A night of the Eagles and Chicago? Willow and Alex would never forgive me. Okay, laters, gators,” said Meghan, tucking the iPod in her jeans pocket. She glanced at me. “And, Willow – thanks,” she added in an undertone.

  For what? I had a feeling that I hadn’t exactly succeeded in warning her away from Seb. I made a mental note to get her alone sometime soon and try again. “Thank you for the shoes,” I replied.

  “Hey, I want those back, you know,” she said, laughing. “Your present is that you get to borrow them. ”

  THAT NIGHT I LAY IN bed staring at the shadows on the ceiling, while Alex sat at our desk, working on his laptop. The strange moment of fear from that afternoon hadn’t come back, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. For something that had only lasted a second, it had been so incredibly intense.

  When I’d asked Seb whether he’d also felt it, he’d said no – and I’d sensed his concern for me, along with his flash of irritation at himself for feeling it. I’d wanted to mention Meghan too, but it had felt pretty impossible. The days when Seb and I talked about anything and everything were gone.

  Pushing my problems with Seb aside, I frowned as I thought again about that icy dread. Had it been a fast-forward to the attack, or something else? My psychic senses were usually pretty reliable – if I’d had a feeling, then something was probably going on.

  “You’re still worrying about this, aren’t you?” Alex said, glancing over at me. We’d discussed it and agreed I should try to forget about the feeling unless I got something more specific.

  “I can’t help it,” I admitted. “I just wish I could figure out what it meant. ”

  There was a click as Alex shut his laptop. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here and go for a walk. ”

  “A what?” I blinked as Alex grabbed his jeans and pulled them on over his boxers. The tattoo on his left bicep flexed: an AK in black gothic letters. “But it must be—” I glanced at the clock. “Alex, it’s after midnight!”

  “Yeah?” He scooped up my jeans from the floor. “Perfect – there’s a full moon tonight; it’ll have risen by now. ” He dropped onto the mattress on his knees. “Come on, time to get dressed. ”

  “Alex—” I broke off as I started to laugh. He was crouched on the edge of the bed manoeuvring my feet into the jeans, his expression intent as the muscles of his chest and shoulders moved.

  “You look so serious,” I said, propping myself up to watch.

  He shook his dark head. “You know, this isn’t exactly easy when you’re not helping. Here, lift up. ”

  Smiling now despite myself, I angled my midsection upwards. “Have you actually ascertained yet that I want to go on this walk?”

  “Of course you do. A romantic walk in the moonlight with your boyfriend?” Alex tugged my jeans up the rest of the way and fastened them; with a grin, he kissed me. Then, more serious, he touched my face. “Come on. Really. It’ll do you good; you can’t just lie here worrying all night. ”

  I still found myself getting lost in his blue-grey eyes sometimes – the way they contrasted so sharply against his black lashes. “Okay, you win. ” I climbed out of bed and pulled on a sweater over my white camisole – the desert gets cold at night.

  Alex had put on a long-sleeved T-shirt; he took his pistol from the dresser, checked it, and stuck it in the back of his jeans. As we stepped out into the corridor, he eased the door closed behind us. The thick walls were pretty soundproof, but the one noise guaranteed to penetrate was a door banging shut.

  Suddenly I was almost giggling at the furtiveness of it all. “Why don’t we do this more often?” I whispered.

  Alex’s lips twitched. “Oh, yeah, because you took no persuading at all. ‘A walk!’ you said, springing out of bed. ‘Great, let me get dressed!’”

  As we reached the garage, we were both stifling laughter. Once we were on ground level, we said hi to Matt, the recruit on guard duty, and then stepped out into the yard. Alex had been right; there was a full moon. Its light glinted on the chain-link fence. He punched in the code for the gate, and a moment later we were walking hand in hand down the gritty dirt road.

  I was glad to see he’d shifted his aura. Like mine, it now appeared a sickly grey that clung close to his body – completely unappealing to a hunting angel. “You’ve gotten really good at that,” I said, studying him.

  He squeezed my hand. “Had a good teacher. ”

  At first we’d thought that only Seb and I could change our auras, but then we’d found out humans could do it too; it just took them a lot longer to grasp. Alex, Sam and Liz hadn’t found it nearly as difficult as the rest of the team, though. They’d all been trained in energy work – Alex, since he was a child in his father’s AK camp, where he’d learned to scan the ethereal level for angels.

  There was a rocky outcrop not far away, its rounded shape dark against the stars. We started up it, shifting from hiking to gentle climbing as it steepened. The moonlight was so bright it was actually casting shadows.

  On the other side was a six-foot drop. Alex jumped lightly to the ground. “Come on, I’ll catch you,” he said, holding his arms out.

 

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